Page 22

CHAPTER 22

Malakai

The town stretches below me, a mess of buildings, streetlights, and people who have no fucking idea who really owns this place.

Up here, on the rooftop of the main building, I feel like I rule all of it.

Because in a way, I do.

Not everyone has access to this spot. Only the ones who matter. Only the ones who carve their names into the bones of this school, who dictate who rises and who falls.

I lean against the railing, taking a slow drag from my cigarette, letting the sharp burn fill my lungs. The air is crisp, cool, and full of possibility.

Because I’m on top of the fucking world. Everything is falling into place.

Alex? Ruined. Raven? Mine. The Pantheon? Completely under my control. And yet?—

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

I glance down, brows lifting as I see the name flash across my screen.

Alex Callahan .

I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head.

This fucking loser.

I swipe open the message.

Alex: I want to talk.

Alex: I know I messed up. I just want a chance to fix things.

Alex: Please. Just tell me what I need to do.

I actually laugh out loud, the sound echoing into the night.

Unbelievable. Alex still thinks he can fix this. Still thinks he can earn his way back into The Pantheon after losing everything.

I take another drag of my cigarette, exhaling slowly. The pathetic desperation in his messages is almost sad. Almost.

Because really? It’s just fucking hilarious. Does he really think I’ll let him crawl back? That I’ll hand him a second chance after I ripped his world apart?

No. But I can play with him a little longer.

I smirk, typing back a response.

Me: Maybe.

Me: Meet me after practice. We’ll talk.

I hit send , knowing exactly what this will do.

He’ll cling to it. To hope. And then? I’ll watch him crumble all over again.

I flick the cigarette away, watching it fall into the darkness below.

This is where I belong—at the top, pulling the strings. Because in the end?

Everyone kneels to me.

I should be satisfied. I should be reveling in my victory. Everything I want, I run after it. I always have my way, never faltering for a fucking minute. But this time, I don't feel satisfied enough; instead?—

Instead, there’s a voice ringing in my head.

Kai.

I grit my teeth, my jaw clenching hard. Raven fucking Calloway. I hate that she called me that. Hate that she said it so casually, like it was hers to say.

Hate that it’s still fucking echoing in my brain like some stupid, annoying melody I can’t turn off. No one calls me that.

No one.

It’s too personal, too familiar, too soft.

And yet... And yet, when she said it, I didn’t correct her like I should have.

I should have shut it down immediately. Instead, I fucking let her, and now I'm worried she'll make it a thing, like sneaking in that awful little bunny.

I inhale deeply, dragging my fingers through my hair, and exhale roughly. This needs to stop. I need to purge myself of these thoughts. Raven's not someone important to me, even though she's important to the game I'm playing.

She's just a means to an end, a fake girlfriend I can parade around to make Alex seethe. She's a temporary fucking distraction.

Raven isn't special, and she isn't really mine. Not in any way that matters.

But that night—that night, she felt like mine.

And now, standing here on the rooftop, the city stretched below me, the power surging through my veins?—

I let myself picture her again.

She’s in my bed.

My sheets. My space. Mine.

Raven’s lying there, completely naked—skin flushed, lips parted, waiting.

She’s still pretending she’s not in too deep. That she’s not aching for me the way I know she is.

But I can see it.

The way her breath catches as I drag my knuckles down her bare stomach, teasing, just skimming where she wants me most.

The way her thighs tense, the anticipation making her restless.

The way her fingers clench the sheets, trying to hold onto the last thread of whatever resistance she thinks she still has.

I smirk.

"Still playing the good girl, Lamb?" My voice is low, rough, the weight of it curling between us like smoke.

Her dark eyes flick to mine, challenging. "I’m not playing anything."

I let my hand drift lower, just barely touching, and she gasps, her back arching the way I fucking love.

"That so?" I murmur, dipping my head to graze my teeth over her exposed throat, savoring the way her pulse races beneath my lips.

Her nails bite into my forearm, her body shuddering.

Still fighting me.

Still pretending this isn’t exactly where she wants to be.

I chuckle, dark and knowing.

"Lying doesn’t suit you, Lamb." My fingers trail between her thighs, teasing, playing with my new favorite thing in this world. "Wanna try that again?"

She makes a frustrated sound, her body betraying her, hips rolling into my touch even as she glares.

And fuck, I love this.

Love her fire, love that she’s still so goddamn stubborn, love that I’m the only one who can pull her apart like this.

I dip my fingers lower, testing, teasing ? —

She whimpers.

I still.

Because that sound?

That tiny, needy, wrecked sound?

It fucking destroys me.

My grip tightens, my control hanging by a fucking thread.

I want to ruin her.

Want her to forget who she is, who I am, who the fuck we’re supposed to be.

I want her addicted to this, to me, to the way I make her feel.

I press my mouth to her ear, voice a low, dark whisper.

"Say my name, Lamb."

She shivers.

I press my fingers deeper, coaxing, demanding ? —

Her breath shatters.

And then ? —

"Kai."

I snap. Really?

She's going to utterly ruin the moment by calling me Kai. That's not me; that's not who I am. Kai? Sounds like a loser. Malakai? The all-powerful leader of The Pantheon. Dammit. Even my fantasies are so fucked up right now.

Without realizing it, I was touching myself, already hard for the naked Raven in my fantasies, my dick throbbing with an urgency I don't always feel. But now, I feel kind of stupid. We're going to be sharing a bed tonight, the first time we'll be this close after that night in the abandoned building.

The thought of it teases my dick more, but it also infuriates me that I even care about this girl. A month ago, I wouldn't have imagined this, but now my actions have led me to a point where I'm making Raven stay with me, and I'm kind of happy about this.

I take my time getting to the locker room.

Alex is already there.

I know it before I even step inside.

The air reeks of desperation, of a man clinging to scraps.

I push open the door, letting it slam against the wall as I walk in.

Alex looks up from where he’s sitting on the bench, still in his sweat-drenched jersey from practice. His hands are clenched together like he’s been practicing his little speech.

I smirk.

This is going to be fun.

"Vega," he says, stiff but trying to keep it civil.

Pathetic.

He still thinks there’s something to salvage.

I let the silence stretch, moving to my locker, deliberately slow, dragging out every second of his useless hope.

Then, finally, I turn, lean against the metal doors, and raise a brow.

"Well?" I say lazily. "You wanted to talk. So talk."

Alex inhales sharply, like he’s steadying himself. "I made mistakes."

I snort. "No shit."

His jaw tightens, but he pushes forward. "But I still belong in The Pantheon. You know I do."

I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. "Do I?"

His hands clench into fists, but he keeps his voice measured. "You know what I’m capable of. You know I deserve my place."

I take a step closer, towering over him. "Deserve? That’s a strong word coming from the guy who lost everything in less than a month."

He swallows hard, his face reddening with shame, but still—he stays seated, looking up at me like a man begging for mercy.

Disgusting.

I can’t help myself.

I lean down slightly, tilting my head. "You really think I’d let you back in?"

Silence.

I grin.

Then, with zero hesitation, I reach for his helmet sitting on the bench beside him.

And drop it at his feet.

The loud clatter echoes through the locker room, and Alex stiffens, his shoulders locking.

I smirk. "Pick it up."

He freezes.

His fingers twitch, like his body knows it should move, but his pride won’t let him.

I wait.

And then, just when I think maybe—just maybe—he still has a shred of dignity left?—

He fucking bends down and picks it up.

I let out a low whistle, shaking my head. "Wow. You really will do anything to get back in, huh?"

His hands clench around the helmet, his entire body trembling with barely concealed humiliation.

I laugh, deep and cruel, stepping back. "You used to be somebody, Alex. Now? You’re just a pathetic little bitch."

That’s when it happens.

The shift.

His entire face contorts with rage, his mouth curling into something ugly.

"You think you’re untouchable," he spits.

I raise a brow. "I know I am."

His breathing goes ragged, his control slipping further.

And then?—

Then he says it.

"You think you won because you fucked my little charity case?" His lip curls, his voice dripping with venom. "She’s just a dumb, useless whore."

Everything stops.

The smirk vanishes from my face.

The locker room goes silent.

Alex realizes his mistake a second too late.

Because I move fast.

Before I know it, I have him by the collar, yanking him up so our faces are inches apart.

His eyes go wide, panic flickering through them.

"You wanna say that again?" My voice is low, deadly.

He swallows hard, his bravado crumbling under the weight of my rage.

But I’m not done.

I grip his shirt tighter, my knuckles going white. "Call her that again, and I’ll make sure you never fucking walk onto this ice again."

His breath is ragged, his hands coming up to pry at my grip.

But before I can do anything worse, before I can give in to the pure violence clawing at my veins?—

A voice cuts through the room.

"The fuck is going on in here?!"

The coach.

Perfect timing.

I release Alex instantly, letting him stumble back like the pathetic fucker he is.

His breath heaves, his face red from anger and pure fucking humiliation.

I don’t look at the coach.

I don’t need to.

I just smirk at Alex one last time. "Better run, Callahan."

His eyes burn into mine, hateful and furious and weak all at once.

Then, without another word, he grabs his stuff and storms out.

The door slams behind him.

And me?

I just stand there.

Calm. Steady. In control.

Because now?

Alex Callahan isn’t just ruined.

He’s completely broken.

The second Alex is gone, the rage fades, leaving behind something I can’t quite name.

I should be satisfied.

I should be gloating, thinking about the way he fucking crumbled in front of me, how easily I pushed him over the edge.

Instead, I’m standing here, fists clenched, jaw tight, chest still fucking burning.

I exhale slowly, rolling my shoulders, forcing myself to relax.

It’s not like me to lose control.

Not like me to let someone get under my skin like that.

But the second Alex called her that?—

The second he spat out those words like she was worth nothing?—

I fucking snapped.

And that’s what’s bothering me now.

Because why the fuck did I care?

I drag a hand down my face, breathing deep, trying to push the thought away.

This was about power. About putting Alex in his place. That’s it.

It wasn’t about her .

It wasn’t about the way my pulse fucking spiked the moment he mentioned her.

It wasn’t about how I felt murderous at the thought of someone looking at her like she was less than.

It wasn’t.

I exhale sharply, grabbing my bag from the bench and shoving my gear inside aggressively.

She’s just a pawn.

She’s just part of the plan.

A piece in the game I’m playing.

That’s what I told myself when I first pulled her into this mess.

That’s what I’ve been telling myself ever since.

But then she had to go and ruin it.

Had to start pushing back, start standing her ground, start sneaking her stupid little softness into places it didn’t belong.

Had to go and call me Kai.

I grit my teeth, shoving my locker shut harder than necessary.

She did that on purpose.

She said it just to piss me off.

And yet?—

Yet when she said it, I didn’t feel annoyed.

I felt something else.

Something dangerous.

Something that’s starting to look a lot like wanting her .

I shake my head, slamming my bag onto my shoulder.

No.

Not happening.

Not fucking happening.

She’s still just the means to an end.

Just another way to break Alex.

Just temporary.

I repeat the words in my head, over and over, like some fucked-up mantra.

Because if I let myself start believing anything else?

I might actually lose this game.

And I never lose.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my fingers drumming against the leather as I speed through the city streets, the low growl of my engine cutting through the silence.

It’s late. Too late for me to be thinking about her .

But I am.

And it’s pissing me off .

I didn’t have to make Raven move in with me.

I could’ve just paid off her mother’s medical bills and sent her on her way. Could’ve let her figure out her own damn life while I handled my own shit.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I forced her into my space, made it clear that if she wanted my help, it came at a price.

And yeah, maybe that was the move of a bully.

But I like being a bully.

It makes things simple.

Only—this isn’t simple.

Because now, she’s there all the time. In my apartment. In my space.

But I don't quite hate it. Maybe I actually like it.

I don't know what she's up to, but when I think of the time I found her near the closet, I liked watching her. It was such a domestic scene, but it made me feel something. Something strange. Like a part of me wanted this to be a thing.

It’s annoying as hell .

Because this was never supposed to mean anything.

She was supposed to be a pawn. Another piece on the board that I could move however I wanted.

Not… this .

Not someone who lingers in my mind when I’m not with her.

I scowl, pressing my foot down a little harder on the gas. The truck roars forward, eating up the road beneath me.

This is her fault.

For being too damn stubborn. Too sharp-tongued, too soft in ways I didn’t expect.

I should make this harder for her. Should remind her who’s in charge.

Because the second I start liking having her around?—

The second I let my guard down?—

That’s when I lose.

And I never fucking lose.

I exhale sharply, rolling my shoulders back as I finally pull into my parking garage.

I need to get my head straight.

Because I might have forced her to move in with me?—

But I’m starting to realize that I’m the one trapped.